This chapter picks up from here.
“No, no, Dra’Zita was born in Cyrodiil, in Bravil. Never been to Elswyr, never really wanted to. This one has much family, many friends here. Elswyr would be strange, just as strange as it would be for Yarah and Ser Bedyn.” Continue reading
Xeri was incredulous that they were going through all this trouble for a single Nord. It’s not that she had anything against Nords, but the Thalmor had lots of prisoners and Xeri couldn’t help but wonder what was so special about this one who was neither a Blade nor a university mage. She was a priest of Talos, one of the many gathered from Imperial City and one of the few who refused to renounce their devotion to the now banned Divine. Most had chosen to save their own skins, knowing that their work would simply go on in secret. But not this one. And the fact that she’d so readily refused to save her own life made Xeri suspicious. Continue reading
This chapter picks up from here
Yarah leaned back and pinched her eyes and the bridge of her nose with the tip of her fingers. She was nearing the end of a long day of poring over Mithedi’s journals, hundreds of pages of meticulously kept research notes, ranging from theoretical analyses to experimental observations. Though the sections on physiology were far to advanced for her to comprehend fully, she discerned that he was trying to create some type of detect life spell using Bedyn’s blood. Though notably, he never once mentions his name, referring to him only as “the subject”. Continue reading
And once again, I have commissioned the fabulous Memai to bring life to yet another new character. Maxim Varros is an Imperial leather-worker, revelry-lover and all around wiseass. He will be introduced later and will figure prominently during the Miraak story. Continue reading
(Author note: Some context points: (1) this chapter begins where chapter sixteen left off, with Nerien leaving Mzulft, and occurs before/concurrently with Labyrinthian an the Eye of Magnus. (2) The prophesy brought up here was mentioned at the very end of chapter thirteen.
Nerien was furious. After leaving Mzulft and thinking more about how Quaranir had gone behind his back and sought Elspeth out on his own, he had to restrain himself from finding the other monk and demanding an explanation. In his rage, he could only imagine the most distrustful reasons for such a betrayal, that his colleague meant to push him aside and claim the honor of finding a champion for himself. But this behavior and the feelings of paranoia and frustration: as a monk of the Psijic Order they were beneath him. He would not confront the other mer; he would consult the Oracle. Continue reading